King of Forgotten Clubs (3 page)

Irma fingered the edge of a notecard. “If I tell you, you could make it worse.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” I really did believe that. I couldn’t imagine myself doing anything to hurt her. I guess I forgot, for a second, that I was me. “I haven’t gone to the police yet, have I?”

Irma shook her head. “They’re not the real police.”

Bingo. Information. “Where’d they get the badges from?”

“Theft. Bribery. I don’t know.” Irma sighed. “They have money, resources. The police weren’t exactly turning a blind eye, but they couldn’t do much of anything until…”

“Until you blew up mob headquarters?” I was beginning to worry that by siding with her, I was pitting myself against some sort of super mob. I had a vague fantasy about fighting gangsters in pinstriped suits before I snapped back to reality.

“It’s not ‘the mob.’ Just a drug ring. A big one, I guess. Supplies half of western L.A. My dad’s testifying against them. They think they can get to him through me.”

Maybe that was worse. “Why don’t you get real police protection?”

She scowled. “I’ve seen the so-called police protection. That’s how you get killed. I’m safer on my own.”

“You don’t have to be on your own.”

She slid her hand over to mine slowly. “I know.”

I ran my fingers along hers. “Irma.”

“Call me Kali.”

I smiled. “Is that your real name?”

“I’ll never tell.”

I wanted to capture the way her lips tilted in strings and notecards, so I’d never have to be without it again. My cell phone buzzed in my pocket.

“You should get that.”

I leaned away to yank it out and snapped open the ancient flip screen. If I’d checked the caller ID first, I’d never have answered it at all. “What?”

There was a breath-filled pause. Then, “Pak.”

The sound of Mom’s voice went straight to my gut. “No.”

“I need to talk to you,” she pleaded.

“Yeah, well, you should’ve thought of that two years ago.”

“Pak, please.”

I ended the call.

Kali sat watching me. “Who was that?”

“No one.”

“Funny. From the look on your face, I’d say it’s the very definition of ‘someone.’”

It was easier to lie than tell the truth, to keep people out, to put up glass walls so they only think they’re sitting right next to me. But sooner or later, I just can’t resist throwing a stone. “My mom isn’t someone anymore.”

“Harsh.”

I tried not to stare at the way her eyes reflected the lamplight. “No. Harsh is sending me to an entire other country to get away from me.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “Some boarding school in France. I left. Didn’t exactly ask permission first.”

“Does she know where you are at all?”

“No.” I stirred what was left of my meal with a fork.

She shuffled notecards. “You should talk to her. I mean, if I could talk to my parents, I would.”

“That’s different.” Her parents hadn’t forgotten she existed once she got too old to be a stylish accessory.

“It really isn’t.” A strand of hair tumbled over her shoulder. “I could try here.” She pointed at a scribbled location on a notecard. “Hide out until the trial is over.”

“What happened to all those words about going on the offensive?”

She shrugged. “I don’t see how I could get anything through. They’d snatch me, and it’d be over before it began.”

“Not necessarily.” I leaned forward, eagerness beginning to break through the frustration. There was nothing better than planning a job. “Find something they need, like a point in the supply chain. Hit it when it’s unguarded and run. Chaos ensues. Further attempts to find you are delayed. Everyone wins except for them.”

“These aren’t the kind of people who leave things unguarded.” She rubbed her wrist. “Are you sure we shouldn’t move somewhere else? If they spotted us together they could figure out where we are.”

“Please. The only thing we’re in threat range of is flying pizza from my roommates.” Something thunked into one of the cardboard walls and caused them all to shake. “Like that.” I pushed back against the wall. “Get your own room!”
 

Instead of the chorus of stoned laughter I expected, there was dead silence. Something red was leaking through the cardboard. “Shit.”

Kali was already on her feet and lunging for the window. I scrambled after her. The wall fell away.
 

The fake policeman stood there, his cropped hair giving off an aura of deadly competence. All he needed was a leather jacket to complete the image. Sadly, the heat seemed to have prevented it. “Freeze.”

My long history of ignoring authority finally came in handy. I jumped out the window after Kali, shielding my head with my arms. My shoulder hit the sidewalk hard.

“Move!” Kali screamed, grabbing my hand and yanking me to my feet.
 

I stumbled across the pavement, hunched against the pain trying to crawl up my spine. A car screeched to a stop inches from my foot. The street and sidewalk formed a confusing mesh in my tilted vision.

The snap of a gunshot brought me back to my senses.

I was never harboring a fugitive again.

Exhibit G: I lose the girl.

I gasped for air as I leaned against the dirty brick wall.

“We have to keep moving.” Kali fidgeted with a strand of her hair. “They’ll catch up to us if we stay here too long.”

“You forgot to mention the part,” I paused to breathe, “where helping you would get me shot at. With guns.”

“It’s not like they’d shoot at us with bows and arrows, now, is it?”

I glared at her.

“Come on. I know a place where we can duck off the street.” She tried to walk away.

I wrapped my fingers around her wrist. “No more running.”

“Fine, we’ll walk there. Can we just go?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. I need to know something first.”

“We don’t have time for this.” She hopped from foot to foot.

I tugged her closer. “It’ll only take a minute.” I reached out and ran a hand over her hair. It slid softly through my fingers.
 

Kali made a noise deep in her throat and leaned forward. Before I let myself think through what I was doing, I pressed my lips against hers. She melted against me, and we glided across each other, frictionless.

What were we doing? I pulled away from her. I felt as though I’d misplaced my common sense, and maybe my lungs with it.

“Don’t stop,” she said, her words low and warm.

We tangled together again, her fingertips hard against my back. I breathed her in. She was peppermint and root beer Chapstick and something unfathomable. It wasn’t enough. My hand slid down the smooth plane of her back, found the frayed top of the jeans that had been mine a week ago. Her leg wrapped around mine. We fell back against the wall.

She tilted her head back, and I obligingly moved to explore the slope of her neck, inhaled against the silk of her hair.

“Annabelle,” I said.

The fantasy shattered.
 

Kali turned to stone in my arms. “We have to go,” she said, separating herself from me.

“That’s not what I meant.” As if I could explain away saying the wrong girl’s name.

“It’s this way.” She started walking again, her back to me.

I stumbled after her. I couldn’t find the words to fix this. Maybe I could tell her: “You’re worth getting shot at for,” or, I have a speech disorder.”

Then there was what I wanted to say but couldn’t: “Don’t leave me.”

“Where is this place?” We’d been weaving through alleys for ten minutes, and I was beginning to think her goal was to lose me in them.

“We’re almost there.” She turned abruptly and jumped a few inches onto a fire escape. Some sort of loud banging drifted down from a window up above.

“Looks promising,” I joked.

She didn’t answer. I didn’t think I really expected her to.

I grabbed a handrail and hauled myself up. The black fire escape hugged the wall all the way to a third-story window. Considering there were two more stories after that, the building seemed like a bit of a fire hazard. “Please tell me you’re not taking me to a drug den.”

She flashed a smile over her shoulder. “Better.” Then she remembered she was mad at me and threw in a glare for good measure.
 

She reached the top of the fire escape. A blast of noise accompanied her tossing the window open. The place seemed a little less subtle than I’d imagined, and a little more loud.

When she hopped through the window, I followed her, trying to hide my panic. She could be taking me anywhere. Did I really trust her?

For some ungodly reason, I did.

The room inside was lit with strobe lights. Kali pulled a blackout curtain closed behind us.
 

“Where are we?” I shouted over a thumping bass.
 

I didn’t know it was possible to soundproof windows, but they must have in order to keep the place from being heard in Idaho. People were packed into the small squarish area, all of them gyrating to the music. It was the kind of place that should come with a seizure warning. Or at least a migraine warning.

Kali’s teeth looked green in the light. I couldn’t hear what she said in response.

I leaned closer. “What?”

She pushed me away and dove into the crowd, hips swaying to the beat of the music.

I hurried after her. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I got lost in the crush. “Kali!” I shouted.

She didn’t turn around. I drowned in the crowd. An elbow jabbed my ribcage. Something wet hit my leg. I thought I saw a flash of blond hair, but I ran into a counter I could have sworn hadn’t been there a minute ago.
 

“Kali!” I yelled.

“Five dollars,” someone shouted in my ear.

I started. The bartender shoved a sloshing cup at me. I shook my head and held up my empty palms. I had no money, which was hilarious, since I was supposed to be loaded. Crazy parties in unfindable clubs should have been my everyday existence. I’d thrown it all away, and I’d boomeranged straight back—minus the money.

I shook my head. I hadn’t even thought about my past life in months. Was that stupid fake smoke laced with something?

“Kali!” I screamed, shoving away from the bar.

A hand brushed against my arm. Kali smiled at me. She said something I couldn’t hear. I gestured in the direction I suspected a door might be. She fled back onto the dance floor. I swore and went after her.

I caught up to her in the middle of the chaos. Kali was dancing. Her arms were stretched up above her head, as if she could pull herself out of there with sheer muscle and willpower. Her eyes were closed, lips counting a beat I couldn’t follow.

I reached up to draw one of her hands into mine. “We’ll be okay,” I said into her ear.

She leaned against me. “Maybe.”

I tried to think of a speech about uncertainty and risk, but I didn’t have the lung capacity to deliver it in this room.

“Pak.”

I wrapped an arm around her waist. “Yeah?”

“Behind you.”

That didn’t make any sense.

The lights burst all at once. My knees buckled. Kali screamed something incomprehensible in my ear.

Kali was floating away. Her entire body strained in my direction as a monster with bulging muscles and bright red tattoos pulled her away.

Finally. Finally, she chose me.

Exhibit H: I drag my friends into trouble.

I woke up in an abandoned room. I got up slowly. Every joint in my body ached. I watched the light catch a dust mote for a moment before trying to reorient myself. I was in the same room the club had been in last night. I had to be. A counter ran along one side, a window at the back. The room was about the size of a walk-in closet. I had no idea how all those people had fit into it.

I found my feet and staggered to the door. Flashes of memory were beginning to come back. Kali. She’d been snatched right off the dance floor. I didn’t know how long I’d been unconscious. She could be anywhere. I paused to lean against the doorframe. No, not anywhere. I knew exactly who had her. I just needed to get her back.

For that, I would need more than a plan. I needed the Stone Throwers.

The school parking lot was empty, typical for July. I watched the brick façade of the school as if it might stand up and try to swallow me whole. I would rather not have been on school grounds without a legal obligation to do so, but I hadn’t been able to find my phone after I’d woken up at the club. At the time, I’d decided the old piece of junk wasn’t worth enough to stick around and look for, which meant I’d had to resort to using our tic-tac-toe board system to call a meeting, limiting me to telling the others to meet at the school.

The groan of a dying motor announced the arrival of Sam’s car.

“Can’t you drive your convertible?” I called to Birdie as she got out of the passenger seat.

She shrugged. “It’s down for repairs again.”

“He’s not even part of the group.” I’d tried invoking founders’ rights multiple times since Birdie had started taking Sam everywhere, but she kept overturning me on the grounds that we’d never gotten around to writing down rules.

“He’s a member by extension.”

“You can’t just say words and get your way.”

Sam sat on the hood of his car and offered a hand to Birdie. “Yes, she can.”

Birdie beamed and joined him on the makeshift seating.

I don’t know why I’d bothered arguing at all. If I could convince Birdie to do anything, we’d still be together, and Sam would be off frying potatoes or whatever it was he did. But she’d insisted we were destructive together, and now here we were, apart. She was blissfully happy, and my life was in ashes. Maybe she was right, except maybe it wasn’t “us” that was the problem. Maybe it was just me.

“Where’s Annabelle?” I looked around as if she might appear out of the air. I needed someone to throw me off-center and knock me out of my dark mood. Madison wasn’t there yet, either, but she had the longest drive.

Birdie pursed her lips. “She’ll be here.”